


seven

by selectiveyellow



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/F, Second Person, season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 03:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14392962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selectiveyellow/pseuds/selectiveyellow
Summary: You think it’s just because you’re drunk, but you’ve never seen Izzie look so beautiful.





	seven

**Author's Note:**

> someone's gotta fill this ship tag and that someone is me

You think it’s just because you’re drunk, but you’ve never seen Izzie look so beautiful.

Okay, not entirely true.

You remember thinking she was beautiful when you met her. Not on your first day, because you were busy meeting Meredith and trying to help George, and she was stuck outside with a deer. Or on your second day, because you’re an intern and your time is not your own. But on your third day, you caught up to her as she was leaving, you coming off of your 42nd hour, and her leaving at the relatively regular hour afforded to her as a resident once in a lucky break.

You called her name and she looked at you like she had never seen you before, which she probably hadn’t. Then her lips curled up and she knew exactly who you were; surprisingly she didn’t look unfriendly, no sneer typical of Karev or Yang, but a _look_ that reminds you a little bit of George. You tell her what you’ve been meaning to say, that you heard about what she did last year. Her eyes narrowed, which you expected – you aren’t so busy that you don’t know about the LVAD wire – and you listen to her indignant voice for about seven seconds before you interject.

What you actually knew about her, or cared to remember about her, is that she was the intern who drilled burr holes in a man’s skull in the middle of a crash site with a hand drill, while his friends looked on, and the man _lived_. Statistics of surviving head trauma in disasters and words from the pages of articles you read about the Burr technique start pouring out before you can help it, catching yourself half a minute in by covering your lips with your fingers to stop the word mess that probably mean nothing to her.

You were rewarded with a stunned look and a smile so beautiful you forgot what a burr hole was. A stunning beautiful smile that turned sharp and crafty when she stepped a little into your space like residents do and guessed maybe you were just sucking up for surgery time.

She was wrong, but you benefited in the end anyway because the moment a patient came in ultimately requiring burr holes - about two weeks later - Izzie was there and made sure the two of you were put on the case with Dr. Shepherd.

“Hear you’re pretty interested in Neuro,” he’d said, looking at you in the kind way he always does because he knows Meredith doesn’t like you.

Izzie had chimed in “Lexipedia here can tell you all about it,” giving you that beautiful smile behind her mask _you just knew it,_ and you’d never been prouder of your nickname.

(You didn’t press your luck by asking for the drill, even though you still think Dr. Shephard would have given it to you just because of who you are; you remember being a little more interested in watching Izzie as he handed it to her anyway.)

You’ve been a little enamored with her ever since. You notice the way she talks to patients, to her interns (on her good days. She was still a resident and you try not to be _so_ enamored that you pretend you don’t see the side of her that can be as cold as Alex), to her friends, and most of all to you.

It isn’t long before ‘enamored’ becomes a little more. You pick up on the little things that make her happier after a bad day, the way she likes her coffee. You watch her surgeries from their galleries when you’re not on a service with her, and even join her at the bar now and then; and when you cross paths in the hallway and she throws _that_ smile at you, it’s hard to pretend you aren’t a little smitten.

All facts about you that, as of tonight, you regret ever telling George. Why you thought telling her _best friend_ of all people about your crush on her was a smart idea, you’ll never understand.

Because George is hosting a party; not just any party, but a party at Izzie’s house, with a handful of interns and a mountain of alcohol. And not just any party at Izzie’s house, but a party you know he’s hosting _just_ to get you to talk to her. (You know this because he told you, extremely convinced that you just needed a little push and his self-declared matchmaking skills.

You’d be more confident if he hadn’t just divorced his wife. After sleeping with your crush.).

You get to the party with George half dragging you there, most of your fellow interns in tow, assuring you he had a plan and to just have fun.

The door opens, and you’re sure George’s “plan” was to just confess to Izzie everything on your behalf before you got there because, _you swear_ , that gorgeous black sweater, blue eyeshadow, pink lipstick look _had_ to have been just for you. It’s not like you’ve never seen her out of scrubs before, you’ve just never seen her out of scrubs, in her own home, holding a few bottles of tequila that weren’t paid by the shot, and looking so Model Hot.

(George and Alex were quite happy to show you Bethany Whisper, for entirely different respective reasons.)

The party starts with no one noticing your gawking, you hope, and the drinks pour. The others drink to get over the fact that Izzie was their boss until they were too smashed to care, and you drink to try and take George’s advice and loosen up; and everyone in the house is drinking to forget about work, and the party kicks off.

 

//

 

You think it's just because you’re drunk, but Seven Minutes in Heaven is an awful game.

No, actually, you’re pretty sure anyone would think the same sober.

But as it is, you’ve all had a fair amount to drink – except George and Izzie who are only slightly more sober, like good hosts should be – and playing games you never got to do in college because you were busy being med students seemed like a great idea, as established by everyone in the room. You, however, are convinced George is somehow orchestrating the whole thing, making sure to sit next to you with Izzie directly across, so that you have to pretend you’re not staring at her all night.

Maybe he’s actually better at this than you think, although you manage to keep that thought to yourself.

The first pair decided by the spin of a bottle is Megan and Steve. Izzie keeps time and the rest of you fill up the space by drinking some more and placing bets over various outcomes once the closet doors open, and sharing horror stories about work. A few of you stress about what to do if Meredith and Alex come home early, to which no one, even Izzie, has an answer to except to push the furniture back together and scatter.

Your first partner in the closet is Leo, who you refuse to kiss and keep at an arms distance for the first two minutes as he tries to sweet talk you, and the other five are spent gossiping about crushes. (His crush. Graciella. You keep your mouth shut of course.) Unfortunately for Leo - or maybe fortunately for Leo - Graciella happens to be your second partner of the night.

(An equal opportunity spin the bottle was decided early on, again because you think George is doing all of this to embarrass you. Izzie didn’t object, you noticed, and everyone else was too tipsy to think it would be anything but hilarious.)

Graciella spends the first minute blushing and stuttering, and you hold her hand for most of the time and let her fill the minutes saying whatever she wants, and you realize you don’t know her as well as you would like. Near the end you go to kiss her cheek, but with a turn of her head she kisses you and you think this is probably the most innocent version of ‘spend seven minutes making out with someone’ that could possibly be done tonight.

The door opens right when you’re both pulling away and the boys hoot and holler until the bottle lands on Pierce and George, who stomp their way into the closet and keep as much distance between them as possible, you're absolutely sure.

You think it’s just because you’re drunk, but you’re pretty sure you see Izzie watching you after that. You think, when the bottle lands on her the first time, that she looks right at you before standing and heading into the closest with Mitch.

“Don't worry, they’re not doing anything,” George says as others bring in more beer.

But you don’t hear him because you hurriedly ask over him, “Do you think something’s happening?”

He laughs over his bottle and just shrugs, and you think that’s all until he starts telling you minor but very intimate details about his time with her that you don’t want to hear, yet are desperate to know.

(You try to stop him by asking if Pierce is a good kisser; he just turns up the details until you get up for another drink).

\---

The game goes on. Somehow the bottle gets lost, and you all end up using a vase to play. At one point the vase lands on George on your spin and he almost spends the whole time teasing you, so you kiss him to shut him up.

Izzie’s next spin lands on you and your heart stops against the chorus of childish ‘ _Oooh!_ ’s that went up each time someone went into the closet with the boss. George gives you a subtle push that you pray was actually subtle, and you stumble in after his cheerful, “Seven Minutes!” and the door shuts behind you as Izzie laughs.

You’re surprised you can hear Izzie speaking over the pounding in your ears, and you wish you hadn’t drank so much.

“We don’t have to do anything – we can just talk,” she’s saying, and you imagine her offering that to everyone else who came in with her and you feel a rush of affection for her (assuming it was true, which you do, even though it probably isn’t).

You think you should go for it, that this is probably your only chance, but instead you say, “Yeah, I’d like that,” because she can probably hear your butterflies anyway.

She looks at you kindly and settles on a suitcase or an over turned hamper and you lean against the door jam so you can keep an ear to the party. You say the first thing that pops into your head, which is to just tell her about a surgery you scrubbed in on today in as much detail as you can cram into about a minute (you didn’t deliver the baby yourself, but you _helped_ and that was amazing all on its own.)

She looks at you, you think, _you hope_ , fondly and nods along and you wonder what she’s remembering.

“It’s good that you’re so excited to learn,” she says when you’re finished, and you almost dare yourself to kiss her right then.

“You know, I never did thank you,” Izzie offers, completely unprompted. “After that mess with Callie – well, I know you and George are close, but you never treated me badly. So, thank you for that.”

You wonder where that came from, but what you really want is to tell her is that it had more to do with _you_ than it did with George. “It was bad, sure, awful yes, but you made a mistake - ”

She laughs a little bitterly but you take it as a good sign that she’s still smiling at you. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”

You manage a step forward. “I mean it. You're a good person, I can tell by the way you don't treat me any better or worse because of Meredith or my dad, or…The way you teach us, it's like you want to inspire us and I – well, I mean, I just think that speaks more about you. A-as a person. I can’t think of anyone who would try to revive a deer just to make a boy happy, you know?”

Izzie raises an eyebrow at you and you feel sheepish for mentioning the deer, but it’s kind of your favorite story.

“I know Meredith isn’t fond of me, doesn’t like me at all, and I know she means a lot to you. But you’re a kind person and it’s – refreshing, at this hospital. I mean, well, you know how it is? A-and I’m just happy you’re there.”

You feel a bit triumphant when Izzie looks away embarrassed, even though you feel a little embarrassed yourself for laying it on so thick. That cocky resident attitude that she was never that great at is gone and you appreciate seeing what you hope is a more natural her (or as natural as you can get, a few minutes stuck in a closet).

She looks back at you and there's a confidence that looks much better on her.

“Don’t know if Mer would think too well of me if she found me in here with you.”

Meredith would not think _too well_ of finding her house full of drunk interns making out, but Izzie stares at you intently enough that you realize you have to pick your next words wisely.

You think it’s just because you’re drunk, but you take your chance and push away from the door. You stand in front of her, your next words, “I don’t really care what Meredith thinks right now,” just manage to make it out before she stands and runs her fingers through your hair and you can’t speak when you see that beautiful smile again in the dim light.

She kisses you - or you kiss her, you’re not too sure – and she’s about as good a kisser as you thought she would be. Her nails mark a track across your scalp and down to your face, fingers lightly touching your jaw as you get a fist full of that gorgeous sweater and the other in her gorgeous hair. You pull her closer, one hand dropping to the top of her jeans and your thumb presses into her hip; you feel her tongue trace along your lips and your heart catches in your throat and you have to pull away because it’s too much for your over heated drunk brain.

You’re a little intoxicated on the way she looks at you, keeping you close and not even bothering to control her breathing as you try, and fail, to do. She pulls you back to her and you decide Seven Minutes is a wonderful game as you get tangled in her again.

You jerk away on instinct when the door opens but your plan to spin away and take your spot next to George and make Izzie pine for you the rest of the party is wonderfully dashed when she instead leads you away, and you’re reminded that she has a perfectly good room here.

(You catch George’s eye and he winks at you, Seven Minutes already turned into a normal game of Spin the Bottle and Also Shots without you, and it’s when Izzie’s fingers intertwine with yours that you realize George was just as much playing matchmaker for _Izzie_ as he was for you.)

You give her just enough time to shut the door before you kiss her again, because as much as you love seeing Izzie out of scrubs, now you don’t want to see her in anything.

 

//

 

You think it’s just because you’re hungover, but when you stumble out of Izzie’s room the next morning (avoiding eye contact with Alex and his huge grin) and find her in the kitchen serving breakfast with no eggs and a not-at-all-awkward offer to ride to work with her, you _really_ think you’ve never seen anyone look so beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally an attempt at writing the origin of "Ya Coded" with a rarepair spin, but alas I'll have to save that for another AU


End file.
